Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,72
real chemist. To do something important instead of . . . of embroidering cushions and enduring courtships from men who had no interest in me beyond my modest fortune. The only reason we had to come here later on was—”
She caught herself too late, judging from how Mama was frowning.
“Was what?” her stepmother said.
“Something . . . er . . . happened to my laboratory there. Someone broke in and destroyed a few things—”
“You mean, by blowing the place up? I would call ‘destroyed a few things’ an understatement,” Mama said with a hint of hurt in her tone. “You, young lady, are still keeping things from me.”
Olivia surprised herself by saying, “And you, Mama, are doing the same. For one thing, you still haven’t explained how you learned I had left Carymont.”
When her stepmother hemmed and hawed, Thorn stepped in. “It’s important that we know, Lady Norley.”
“Very well.” Mama straightened her posture. “I received an anonymous letter at home, saying I should look to my daughter because she was no longer at Carymont. The letter did not say where you had gone, but I went to Carymont to find out. Then I came here straightaway.”
“Do you have the letter with you?” Thorn asked.
“I’m sure I do.” Her stepmother hunted around in her large reticule until she found it. “Here you go, Your Grace,” she said as she held it out to him. “Though I don’t know what more you can discover from it.”
He examined it, envelope and all. “Did it come through the regular mail?”
“No. It was left with the butler at our house in Surrey.”
“May I keep this?” he asked.
“Of course,” her stepmother said, though she was clearly bemused by the question.
Olivia watched a frown cross his brow. “What are you thinking?” she asked. “Who do you believe sent it?”
“The same lad who blew up the laboratory, most likely.” Thorn turned to Mama. “Did you spot anyone following you on your way here?”
“Following me? Good heavens, no! Mind you, I wasn’t looking out the window to watch for anyone behind us, but I’m sure our coachman would have noticed someone following us and would have informed me.”
Olivia focused on Thorn. “So you think the fellow sent a letter in order to see where Mama went? In hopes of finding me?”
Thorn shrugged. “We’ve already established he’ll stop at nothing to keep you from determining if Grey’s father was poisoned.”
“Poisoned!” Mama exclaimed. “Oh, my.” She began rooting around in her reticule. “Where’s my smelling salts? I need my smelling salts.”
Olivia walked over, searched her reticule, and handed her the smelling salts.
“Thank you, my dear,” Mama said, and wafted them under her nose, probably more for effect than for any real need to stave off a fainting fit.
“I’ll have men posted on the road just in case,” Thorn said.
“No need,” her stepmother said as she continued to sniff the smelling salts. “Olivia and I are leaving right away. I shan’t allow her to stay here with you and be ruined for good.”
“Mama—” Olivia began.
“I have no intention of ruining her,” Thorn said, as if Olivia hadn’t spoken. “I mean to marry her.”
Olivia froze. Had he really just said that?
Meanwhile, her stepmother wasn’t pacified in the least by his offhand proposal. “Over my dead body,” she said, startling Olivia and Thorn both.
He narrowed his gaze on her stepmother. “Perhaps you and I should speak privately, Lady Norley.”
“Absolutely not,” Olivia put in. “The last time you two spoke privately, Mama blackmailed you into making a lackluster offer for me.”
“You knew about the blackmail?” her stepmother squeaked.
“Not until recently,” Olivia said. “And that’s yet another matter you kept from me.”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Mama said.
“I’m sure you had noble intentions. Everyone seems to have noble intentions when they leave me out of things.”
At just that moment, Gwyn returned with servants bearing tea and coffee, a number of delicious-looking cakes, and toast and butter. While they were setting out the trays, Gwyn urged Olivia, Thorn, and Olivia’s stepmother to take a seat.
Olivia ate her toast while waiting for the servants to leave. Once they were gone, however, she told Thorn, “The only way I will even consider marrying you, Your Grace, is if you make me a genuine offer.”
Gwyn looked startled by the comment, but wisely didn’t try to be part of the conversation.
Thorn, who’d taken the seat opposite Olivia’s, flashed her a tender smile. “This is a genuine offer, sweeting. I truly wish for you to be my duchess.”